


Fated First Meeting

by Penguinplushie



Series: Dragon Age Drabbles [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Sassy Mages, Terrible attempts at sarcasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-12 00:25:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7913296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penguinplushie/pseuds/Penguinplushie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fated first meeting, but thought unremarkable at the time.</p><p> </p><p>Note: Game dialogue totally in use, so spoilers ahead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fated First Meeting

Maxwell Trevelyan carefully pushes open the doors to the Chantry, his companions following behind as they enter. Only a couple steps in and he can hears the sounds of battle. His golden eyes dart around the room until they land on a man dispatching several demons with his staff. He must be a mage, but then why does he just hit them with his weapon? Maxwell wondered as he watches taking a step closer.

“Good! You're finally here! Now help me close this, would you?” The man asks, his voice sounding almost like honey to Maxwell's ears. 

He couldn't stop himself from staring for way too long. Pain sparks in his hand, snapping him out of it and reminding him of just why the man was asking for help. He draws his bow, sure that his companions, Blackwall, Iron Bull and Solas have also drawn their weapons. Before he can even pull the string back he feels magic slide over his exposed skin as one of Solas' barriers hugs him like a second skin, offering another layer of protection. His arrow sings through the air catching one of the demons right in the head, the black monster melting away into the shadows from where it came. He notices Blackwall disappear from beside him as the man charges into battle, while Solas covers them with his lightning magic, supercharging the whole room. Iron Bull as always tramples his way into the melee, enjoying the fight way to much in Maxwell's opinion.

Another arrow arcs from his bow hitting a demon that was trying to sneak up on the mystery man who had asked for their aid. It only wounds the creature but allows the mage to quickly turn and burn it with his magic. The creatures as dispatched without incident and Maxwell raises his hand toward the now open and exposed rift. The pain is sometimes excruciating as he closes the gate to the Fade. Once done he takes a moment to flex his fingers, pushing away the tingle in his hand and check out this man who appeared before him.

The man in question is glancing around at his companions, before he finally speaks up. “Fascinating. How does that work, exactly?” He asks his eyes now trained on Maxwell.

Honestly he still has no idea how he does what he does, he just does it. Mostly to stop the pain that radiates from his hand every time he approaches one of these things, not that anyone else knows about that. He keeps that fact well hidden, who knows how they would react. His silence is taken for, probably, exactly what it means.

“You don't even know, do you? You just wiggle your fingers, and boom! Rift closes.” His voice, though still very much like honey, definitely holds a condescending tone to it.

“Who are you?” He asks cause a name to go with the face would be good.

“Ah. Getting ahead of myself again, I see.” The man answers. If Maxwell didn't think it would be totally embarrassing he might have actually giggled. He continues on introducing himself with a slight bow. “Dorian of House Pavus, most recently of Minrathous. How do you do?”

“Watch yourself, the pretty ones are always the worst,” Iron Bull interjects before Maxwell can even begin to formulate a reply.

“Suspicious friends you have here,” Dorian notes once again resting his dark eyes squarely on Maxwell. “Magister Alexius was once my mentor, so my assistance should be valuable – As I'm sure you can imagine.”

“I was expecting Felix to be here,” Maxwell asks with some concern, the word trap still on the back of his mind.

“I'm sure he's on his way. He was to give you the note, then meet us here after ditching his father,” Dorian explains somewhat gently. Something that instantly grabs Maxwell's attention.

Unsure if he should even be asking such a question, he is still curious enough to ask. “Alexius couldn't jump to Felix's side fast enough when he pretended to be faint. Is something wrong with him?”

“He's had some lingering illness for months. Felix is an only child, and Alexius is being a mother hen, most likely.” Dorian explains with some affection in his voice.

Maxwell decides it probably best not to dwell on the man's friend, seems there is something more going on with that relationship. So he switches gears needing a bit of clarification. “Are you a Magister?”

He could tell from the man's facial expression alone he'd angered him by asking such a question. “All right. Let's say this once, I'm a mage from Tevinter, but not a member of the Magisterium. I know southerners use the terms interchangeably, but that only makes you sound like barbarians.

Knowing a sensitive subject when he hears one, Maxwell quickly leaves that topic for another time or maybe never. Another curiosity could be sated instead. “You're betraying your mentor because...?”

“Alexius _was_ my mentor. Meaning he's not any longer, not for some time. Look, you must know there's danger. That should be obvious even without the note,” he explains. “Let's start with Alexius claiming the allegiance of the mage rebels out from under you. As if by magic, yes? Which is exactly right. To reach Redcliff before the Inquisition, Alexius distorted time itself.”

That is a surprising thing to hear, though Maxwell makes sure not to let it show on his face. “He arranged it so he could arrive here just after the Divine died?”

“You catch on quick,” Dorian answers with a half smile.

Of course I do, Maxwell thought feeling a little perturbed by the half accusation he felt under the words. Or maybe it was just supposed to be praise but the man couldn't bring himself to say it without a little condescension. “That's fascinating if true... and almost certainly dangerous,” Solas adds with some curiosity.

“The rift you closed here? You saw how it twisted time around itself, sped some things up and slowed other down,” Dorian points out as if that will prove his earlier explanation. “Soon there will be more like it, and they'll appear further and further away from Redcliff. The magic Alexius is using it wildly unstable. And it's unraveling the world.

Really? He was really expecting Maxwell to just believe him? “I'd like more proof than “Magical time control! Go with it.”

“I know what I'm talking about. I helped develop this magic.” Well that helps a tiny bit. “When I was still his apprentice, it was pure theory. Alexius could never get it to work. What I don't understand is why he's doing it? Ripping time to shreds just to gain a few hundred lackeys?”

“He didn't do it for them.” Another voice interrupts as Felix approaches them.

“Took you long enough. Is he getting suspicious?” Dorian asks with a hint of concern.

“No, but I shouldn't have played the illness card. I thought he'd be fussing over me all day.” Felix sounded relieved honestly. He turns his attention to Maxwell before beginning to explain. “My father's joined a cult. Tevinter supremacists. They call themselves “Venatori.” And I can tell you one thing: whatever he's done for them, he's done it to get to you.”

Well that's flattering. “Alexius is your father. Why are you working against him?”

“For the same reason Dorian works against him.” Felix answers with a sigh as if Maxwell should already know all this. “I love my father, and I love my country. But this? Cults? Time magic? What he's doing now is madness. For his own sake, you have to stop him.”

“It would also be nice if he didn't rip a hole in time. There's already a hole in the sky,” Dorian points out. Just had to go and remind Maxwell of that didn't he. 

“Why would he rearrange time and indenture the mage rebellion just to get to me?”

“They're obsessed with you. But I don't know why. Perhaps because you survived the Temple of Sacred Ashes?” Felix answers.

“You _can_ close the rifts. Maybe there's a connection? Or they see you as a threat?” Dorian theorizes.

“If the Venatori are behind those rifts, or the Breach in the sky, they're even worse than I thought.”

Of course Felix just has to make the suggestion of a connection, Maxwell sighs to himself. “All this for me? And here I didn't get Alexius anything.” Oh how his sarcasm comes out at the wrong time.

“Send him a fruit basket. Everyone loves those,” Dorian answers with a hidden smirk, cause really who could say that with a straight face. If Maxwell didn't know better, he'd almost think the mage was hitting on him, a little. “You know you're his target,” Dorian goes on to explain. “Expecting the trap is the first step in turning it to your advantage. I can't stay in Redcliff. Alexius doesn't know I'm here, and I want to keep it that way for now. But whenever you're ready to deal with him, I want to be there. I'll be in touch.” He turns away only to turn back mid-stride. “Oh and Felix? Try not to get yourself killed.”

“There are worse things than dying, Dorian,” Felix points out even though the man is clearly out of earshot now.

Maxwell isn't really sure if he trusts the mage. Yet if he's not going to stay in Redcliff, then just where is he going to stay? Well now is not the time to dwell on that. He needs to speak with his advisers, let them know what is going on and maybe get a little input about all this from them. Honestly how is he going to explain time travel that doesn't sound like something out of one of Varric's novels?


End file.
